Assigned Partners
by Carosella
Summary: Berwald Oxenstierna and Amelia F. Jones are assigned to work on a major project together. Friendship, healing, fluff, and romance ensues. As does gossip. A lot of it. High school AU featuring Fem!America, SpeechImpaired!Sweden, and the FACE family.
1. The Assignment

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia**

**Assigned Partners**

**Chapter One: The Assignment **

Berwald sat awkwardly in his seat while his classmates paired off around him, repositioning their desks in order to work together more easily. He hated when teachers made them do group work. He had never done well in groups, even groups as small as two people. He just simply didn't work well with others, though it wasn't for his lack of trying. He tried to be more likable, for all the good it did him. If anything, his peers just seemed to shy further away from him the more he tried. He was notorious for his lack of input in group assignments, though it wasn't because he was uninterested or lacking in good ideas. His classmates had difficulty understanding him when he spoke, which embarrassed him more than he would like to admit, so he tried to get his point across through noncommittal grunts or the occasional "hm." This did little to improve his peer's opinions of him, causing him to come off as uncaring and disinterested, but it was easier to deal with than the awkward, confused looks he got when he attempted to speak, so this was the system he stuck with.

Berwald showed no outward emotion as he looked around the classroom and noticed, unsurprisingly, that he was the only student left who had yet to be paired off. Though he did not allow it to show on his face, (who would care, even if he did?) he felt the sharp sting of rejection, along with a wave of disappointment. This happened every time, but he still hoped...hoped for what? He didn't even know, and it was stupid anyway. Suddenly feeling very tired, Berwald looked at his AP Macroeconomics teacher, , and waited for further instruction. Now, there was one of three possibilities. Roma would either allow Berwald to complete the assignment without a partner, he would be paired up with anyone else who hadn't snatched up a partner quick enough, or he would be asked to join a pair to make a group of three. Berwald prayed Roma would let him have the first option, but it was doubtful. Seeing as there was no one else left over, the second option was out, so it seemed that the third was the most likely.

Roma gave Berwald a bright smile, seemingly unaware of his student's internal distress. "Ah, Berwald," He said in slightly accented English. "Since we don't have an even number, I suppose I can allow you to do this assignment alone. I must warn you, though, this project will be a lot more work if you do it independently. Is that okay with you? We can always have a group of three if you'd like."

Berwald, feeling very pleased at this turn of events, opened his mouth to tell Roma that yes, working independently was definitely okay with him, when the door opened with a loud BANG.

"Yo, Roma, sorry I'm late! McDonalds just added this new breakfast burrito to their menu, and I decided that being one of the first to try it was more important than being on time for school."

"Amelia!" Roma greeted, oddly unperturbed by the girl's excuse for tardiness. "Perfect timing! We were just splitting off into pairs for our new project. You can join Berwald. Now no one has to work alone!"

And just like that, Berwald wasn't so happy anymore. He had been so close, too. He should have known better than to believe himself to be so lucky. Such a shame.

Amelia gave a loud, agonized groan. Berwald frowned, his feeling slightly hurt. He knew he wasn't the best person to work with, but she wasn't even trying to hide her displeasure. Actually, it seemed as if she was trying to make sure everyone was well aware of it. Sighing over-dramatically, Amelia plopped herself down into the seat next to Berwald's. "I just hate projects," she stage whispered, obviously intending for Roma to hear her. "Don't you?" Berwald ignored her, but sensed that the question was rhetorical anyway.

"Ah, but this one will be so much fun!" Ignoring the snorts of disbelief he receive from more than a few students, Roma began going over the basics of the assignment, passing out rubrics as he spoke. "This is the Consumer Finance project I mentioned briefly at the beginning of the year. This is a very big project guys, worth 10% of your grade, which is why I'm giving you four months to do it. You'll be required to keep a strict budget throughout the project. The person you're partnered with can be your spouse, roommate, partner, whatever, it's up to you. Spouses will be able to have children if you so choose, but keep in mind how expensive they are, and how you'll have to fit them into your budget. You'll have to buy a house together based off your combined income, which I will give to you momentarily, and you will share responsibility for bills, the mortgage payment, and etcetera. You'll have to buy a car as well. Whether you share one with your partner or not is up to you, but the car you choose has to be approved by me, as does your house. The types of insurance you're required to have can be located on page 13 of the rubric..."

Roma went on like that for the next thirty minutes, leaving everyone's heads reeling from the sheer size of the project. After going over the rubric and answering the student's many questions, Roma had each student draw a number out of a hat. When he called the student's number, he would give them their occupation and annual income, so as to make it fair and random. When Roma called number eight, Amelia's number, he informed her that she was an orthodontist making an annual salary of $200,000. To which, Amelia's enthusiastic reply was: "Hell yeah, I'm making bank!"

Berwald, on the other hand, was not "making bank" as Amelia had so eloquently put it. He was a mere Florist making one of the lowest salaries in the class; $14,000 annually. He didn't care much. He was not a materialistic person, and he was sure that he wouldn't have too much trouble living off such a small income in real life, much less a hypothetical school assignment. Besides, Amelia was making the highest salary in the class. Maybe he had lucked out in being partnered with her. At the thought, he happened to glance to his left, and noticed Amelia doodling a hamburger with arms, legs and comically huge eyes being chased by what seemed to be a zombie milkshake and fries. He quickly decided that no, he had not been so lucky after all.

"Okay guys," Roma said from the front of the class, pulling Berwald's attention away from Amelia's Walking Dead/McDonalds inspired doodles. "Remember that these salaries are unadjusted for taxes. You're not really making as much as you think you are. I'll be handing out W2 forms later on for you to fill out so you can calculate your adjusted income. Also, if you and your partner decide to have children, you have until the end of the week to let me know. You'll draw a random number, anywhere from one to five, and that will determine the number of children you'll have. Well, I think that's about it. You can have the rest of the time to collaborate with your partner."

With a sigh, Berwald stared down at his desk, the size and seriousness of the project weighing on his mind.

"I know, right?"

Quirking an eyebrow, Berwald turned to Amelia, who had at some point abandoned her culinary doodles, and was looking up at him with a knowing, sympathetic look on her face.

"I totally feel ya'. This blows, huh? I mean, why is this project so unnecessarily huge? Roma's doing the most with this one. Still, I can't really complain that it's not useful. At least this is stuff we'll have to do in real life, eventually. But that doesn't mean I have to like it!"

Berwald replied with a simple, "Mm," leaving her to interpret that however she liked.

"Say, what was your name again?" Amelia asked, cocking her head to the side just a bit.

Oh, that stung. Was she serious? They had only been in school together for the past three years. He had several classes with her. In all honesty, though, Berwald didn't know if he should be surprised or even offended. She was a very popular girl; everyone at least knew of her. She was in several clubs and afterschool sports, not to mention the fact that she had a large and diverse circle of friends. Of course she wouldn't know who he was. It was stupid of him to have even assumed that _anyone_ would know him for anything other than his quite, intimidating exterior, least of all Amelia Jones. Stupid. Realizing that his hesitation was turning into an awkward silence and that he needed to say something _like now_, he blurted out, "'M B'rw'ld."

He watched as her brows knit together in that all-too-familiar expression of incomprehension. "I'm sorry?"

Berwald felt his stomach sink as his neck began to heat up. Damn. Every single time.

"Berw'ld." He repeated, a bit more forcefully this time, quite sure that his ears were blushing bright pink, proof of his shame and embarrassment.

"Berw'ld?" Amelia parroted, sounding a bit unsure.

How embarrassing...Berwald felt his face heat up in mortification, and he knew that if he hadn't been blushing before, he certainly was now. He was sure Amelia wasn't doing it to be cruel. Most likely, she truly couldn't understand him, but his pride was still wounded.

"Ber...wald." He repeated slowly, forcing out each syllable, trying not the slur his vowels.

"Oh! _Berwald_." Amelia contemplated this for a moment. "I like it!" She suddenly declared, giving him a million-watt smile. "It's nice to meet you Berwald! I'm Amelia F. Jones!" She eagerly thrust out her hand, offered him a handshake.

Surprised, Berwald could do nothing but stare at the outstretched hand. Was she really trying to initiate physical contact with him? Most people could hardly stand to make eye contact with him, much less offer him a handshake. He found it odd that she was being so friendly with him now, when earlier she had seemed distressed at the thought of working with him. Looking into Amelia's friendly, open expression, he realized with a start that maybe (a very tentative maybe, because he knew better than to get his hopes up) she had been groaning at the idea of another project, not at the prospect of being partnered with him.

Lost in his musings, Berwald didn't realize that Amelia was still patiently waiting for him to take her hand. After several seconds, the silence had long since grown awkward, and Amelia's bright smile fell ever so slightly, but she did not lower her hand. "You're supposed to shake it, silly."

Realizing that he was being rude, and not wanting to let this once in a lifetime opportunity slip away, Berwald took Amelia's hand in a gentle grip, feeling shy and almost afraid that he would scare her away. As he took her hand, Amelia's smile returned tenfold, and Berwald felt the smallest fluttering in the bottom his stomach at the thought that _he _had been the one to make her smile like that, and he knew instantly that he wanted to do it again.

"So, about this project," Amelia began, releasing Berwald's hand. "I totally think we should be married and have kids. It'll be more work with kids, but I think it'll make it more interesting, yeah? What do you think?"

Berwald was oddly disappointed at the loss of contact, but pleasantly surprised that she was asking for his input. Unable to find the words to respond verbally, he gave a soft 'hm' and nodded in agreement, hoping that the response would satisfy her.

"Awesome!" Amelia exclaimed before standing up and shouting across the room, "Hey, Roma, me and Berwald wanna have babies!"

The class tittered at the wording, but Berwald couldn't find it in himself to care. Roma, smiling brightly as per usual, handed Amelia a hat, telling her to draw a number from it. Taking the hat, Amelia turned to Berwald, instructing him to, "Go for it!"

Doing as she told him, Berwald reached into the hat a pulled out a folded slip of paper. It had the number five written on it. He showed it to Amelia, who responded with a declaration of, "Damn, I must be super fertile, huh Berwald?" Not knowing what exactly to say to that, Berwald simply shrugged. Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of the class. As everyone began to pack up and push their desks back into place, Amelia grabbed a sheet of paper, ripped a small piece off, and jotted her number down. She handed it to Berwald, saying, "Here, this is my number so we can talk about the project and stuff outside of class…and so we can name all those babies, haha! We'll totally have to meet up sometime too. Just let me know whenever you have time. See ya later, Berwald!" With that she quickly gathered up her things and darted from the room.

Berwald stood rooted to the spot for several seconds. Well, that was...different. Only a few had ever expressed that amount of willingness to work with him before. Berwald found himself feeling kind of...flattered. She had looked him in the eye when she spoke to him. She engaged him in conversation and actually seemed interested in his input. She initiated physical contact with him. She had given him her number, a way of communicating on their own, personal time, and implied that she wanted to see him outside of class. It was all purely for the sake of the project of course, but Berwald didn't mind the specifics. He absently rubbed his thumb across the strip of paper he held in his hand before tucking it in his coat pocket, where it would be safe, and heading on to his next class.

* * *

><p>AN: So, yeah. Yay for my first fic! Before you start yelling at me, let me address some things. First: I know Sweden, "D's'nt t'lk l'ke th's." But for the sake of this fic and my imagination, he does. At least for now. Two: I know Sweden is canonically gay. Again, for the sake of this fic and my imagination, he is not. Three: I don't dislike SuFin. Actually, I think it's frickin' adorable. However, I wanted to see if I could pull off a crack pairing, so here we are. I've written a few short fics before, but never have I attempted a multi-chapter fic before. We'll see how this goes. Feel free to tell me what you think. Let me know of any grammatical errors, discrepancies, or just plain crappy writing. Thanks!


	2. The Hand of Friendship

**Assigned Partners **

**Chapter Two:The Hand of Friendship**

**Warnings for this chapter: Slash, language**

Amelia was a little ashamed to admit that before being partnered with him for the Consumer Finance project, she had never really given much thought to Berwald Oxenstierna. It wasn't that he had gone completely unnoticed by her, given the fact that he was as tall as the freaking ceiling and actually not that bad looking, now that she thought about it, but besides that, he was just so quiet and surly. He rarely spoke to anyone, never drawing attention to himself. It seemed as if he only went to school, sat through class, and went home. Still, despite the fact that he was hardly screaming out for attention, Amelia couldn't help but feel guilty that she had so easily overlooked him.

Even more shameful was the fact that she hadn't even remembered his name. And apparently they had like, four classes together! It wasn't one of Amelia's proudest moments, by any means. But the lack of thought she had given to Berwald before the project was being made up for with how often he was on her mind since being assigned to work with him. In all honesty, Amelia was glad to be partnered with Berwald. He seemed like the responsible type, and the quiet ones were almost always the smartest. Like her twin brother Matthew, for example. He was really quiet by nature, hardly ever spoke unless he knew you, but despite this (or maybe because of it,) he was the Salutatorian of their class. Berwald was probably the same way. Between the two of them, Amelia was sure that they both would get As on the assignment.

But in order for that to happen, they would have to actually do some work. At this point, that crucial little step had yet to happen. It had been a week since the project had been assigned, and Berwald and Amelia had barely spoken since. It wasn't all that surprising, honestly, given that the two were in completely different social circles and the fact that Berwald rarely ever spoke in the first place. But it was now Friday, and Amelia hoped, with the coming weekend, Berwald would shoot her a text and they could start their project. However, as Friday turned into Saturday, and Saturday into Sunday morning, Amelia realized that hearing from Berwald wasn't going to happen.

She wondered if he didn't like her. That thought didn't sit well with Amelia at all. She hated the thought of anyone disliking her. She wasn't sure why, but she had always had the need to know that people liked her. She needed to be the center of attention, the star of the limelight, everybody's friend. The Heroine. It was why she was so popular; she went out of her way to make sure she was well-liked. Her parents had always told her that she shouldn't worry too much about what people thought of her, or whether or not they liked her (the same thing all parents told their children) but that kind of attitude wasn't feasible for Amelia. Being liked by everyone wasn't something Amelia simply wanted, but something she absolutely needed-perhaps to an unhealthy degree.

So the thought of anyone, even the silent, taciturn Berwald, disliking her hurt her feelings more than it should have. She felt slightly sick to her stomach. Deciding that she didn't like the turn her thoughts had taken, Amelia rolled off her bed and started in search of her papa, intending to do what she always did when she was stressed, or sad, or needed to get her mind off of things. Amelia headed towards the kitchen, knowing that it was the most obvious place to look. When she made her way through the doorway leading into the kitchen, however, she stopped short in shock at the sight that greeted her.

Her fathers were making out. Heavily. On the kitchen counter.

"Aw, come on, guys!" She shouted, hiding her face in her hands. Her sudden-and very loud-exclamation caused her dad to jump away from her papa in shock, nearly throwing himself off the counter. A mumbled "shit" escaped his slightly swollen lips.

"Amelia!" He squawked. "Wha-what are you doing, just barging in all over the place like-"

"What am I doing?" Amelia cut off indignantly, peeking through her fingers. "What are you two doing making out like that in the open? You have children in the house, geez!"

"Oh, stop being so dramatic!" Her dad shot back, his British accent becoming more prevalent through his irritation. His face was beet-red, but Amelia couldn't tell if it was from anger, embarrassment, or having just had a tongue down his throat. "It's not as if you've never seen us kiss before."

"Yeah, I've seen you kiss, but this is the first time I've ever been to a tonsil-hockey match! And lucky me, I got front row seats!"

"Honestly, you're overreacting-"

"Was there something you needed, Amelia?" Her papa interjected, obviously trying to stop the verbal fight before it escalated.

Amelia lowered her hands and brought them to her hips, the epitome of sass. "Well, I _was_ going to ask you if you wanted to bake some cupcakes with me, but obviously you two are cooking something else in the kitchen."

"Watch the attitude, Amelia." Her dad warned, hopping down from the counter and straightening his clothes. Amelia huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Of course I would love to bake with you, mon petite chou!" Her papa said brightly, tacking on his favorite French term of endearment for his daughter.

"What's the occasion?" Amelia's British father asked, his face still a slight red, but his tone much more calm.

Amelia crossed her arms and shrugged, looking away. "No occasion," she replied. "Just bored." Once upon a time, Amelia would have spilled her guts to her father. They used to be so close, back when she and Matthew had first been adopted by Arthur Kirkland and Francis Bonnefoy. The siblings had been confused, at first, when they were told they would be adopted by two daddies, instead of a mama and a daddy, but at three years old, neither Amelia nor Mathew had cared about the specifics. Amelia had immediately taken to Arthur, always right up under him, asking to be held, tugging at his pant leg. Matthew, on the other hand, had taken more to Francis. Sweet, shy Mattie thrived on Francis' friendly, approachable demeanor and affectionate nature. It wasn't that they had favored one father over the other, necessarily. Amelia had simply related well with Arthur, while Matthew had related well with Francis.

Recently, however, there had been a rift in Arthur and Amelia's relationship. It started out small, just a minute little tear that began with Arthur saying he didn't think Amelia was mature enough for her learners' license; hardly anything worth mentioning. Then, as life went on, and Amelia began wanting more and more freedom that Arthur was less and less inclined to give, that tiny little rip in the relationship between father and daughter began to grow, and would continue to grow, Amelia feared, until the two of them were standing on opposite sides of the Grand Cannon.

"Well," Francis said cheerfully, calling Amelia's attention to him. "'Just bored' is certainly a good enough reason for cupcakes!" He then began to shoo Arthur out of the kitchen, telling him that he was of absolutely no use there while anyone was cooking. Arthur stalked out, mumbling something about frogs under his breath.

Francis turned to Amelia. "What kind of cupcakes did you have in mind?"

"The kind that'll make me feel better about a boy not liking me."

With a raised brow, Francis replied, "Chocolate it is, then."

The two set about baking the cupcakes, gathering the ingredients and making a quick run to the store for the necessities they were lacking.

About an hour or so later, Amelia and Francis were whipping up a milk chocolate buttercream frosting while the dark chocolate cupcakes baked in the oven. Amelia felt much more relaxed, as she had anticipated. Baking was therapeutic; the smell of the baking cupcakes, the rich, sticky texture of the icing coating her fingers, the sound of her papa humming a cheerful, nameless tune. She felt so at ease and comfortable like this.

"So," Francis began, ending his humming. "Tell me about this boy."

Amelia, feeling much more willing to talk about her troubles after her baking session, told Francis about Berwald, explaining the situation and voicing her concerns. By the time she finished, there was a slight frown on Francis' face.

"Amelia, it worries me that you care so much for what this boy thinks of you. You only just met him, yes? Does it honestly bother you so much that this one boy that you barely know may not like you?"

Amelia shrugged. "I mean, I don't know why he wouldn't like me. I haven't done anything that I know of to make him not like me. Besides, I'm the heroine!"

"There you go again," Francis said with a sigh. "Not everyone is going to like you, Amelia. There will be crabby, hard-hearted people who will dislike you for no reason at all. There will be people who don't like you because their personality may not mesh well with yours. This is just something that you're going to have to come to terms with, ma petite. I wish it was not so, but c'est la vie, as they say."

"But it's totally important that people like you!" Amelia argued. "Can you imagine having no friends? Being alone in life?"

"Ah, but you will never have to worry about being alone in life. You will always have Arthur and me, not to mention Mathew," Francis replied calmly. "Besides, what does it matter if people who hold no significance in your life dislike you? It is your relationships with your true friends and family that really matter. As long as your family loves you, and we always will, I assure you, then you have nothing to fear."

Amelia gave a small smile, nothing at all like the bright, easy-going ones she usually wore. He brought up some good points, but she still felt conflicted. Deciding she wasn't in the mood to talk about it anymore, she tried to end the conversation. "Thanks Papa."

"Think nothing of it!" Came Francis' easy reply. "Besides, I do not think this boy dislikes you."

"Wha? Then what was all that talk about "its okay if some people don't like you" and stuff, huh?"

"I was simply telling you what I felt you needed to know."

The timer tinged on the oven, and with a roll of her eyes, Amelia grabbed a pot holder and pulled out two trays of cupcakes. Setting them on the counter to cool, she turned to her papa. "So…you think he likes me?"

"Oui. You say he doesn't talk much?"

"Yeah," Amelia replied. "I could barely get ten words outta him the other day. And when he does talk, it's kinda hard to understand him. I think he has a speech impairment or something. He just kinda mumbles, and his vowels get all slurred."

"Hmm…" Francis mused. "From what you have told me, it seems to me that he is just very shy. Like Mathew, oui? And if it is true that he has a speech impairment, he is most likely embarrassed to speak more than necessary."

"That totally makes sense when you put it that way..."

"But of course it does!" Francis said with a smile. "Why don't you take him some of these cupcakes tomorrow, hm? Extend to him the hand of friendship."

"Awesome idea, Papa! Why didn't I think of that?"

"Unfortunately, you take more after your father when it comes to these things."

"Hey!" Amelia began indignantly. "Wait-what do you mean by "these things?"

"Hm?" Francis replied innocently, a sly smirk on his face. "Oh, nothing, ma petite. Don't worry your pretty little mind about it."

Amelia narrowed her eyes at her papa. "Why are you smirking like that?"

"Moi? I am not smirking. This is just my beautiful face."

"Yeah," Amelia scoffed. "Dad's not lying when he says you're full of yourself."

"You wound me," Francis replied dramatically, clutching a hand to his heart. "First Arthur, now you. Is Mathieu the only one who still loves me?"

"You're so dramatic!"

Amelia never realized just how hypocritical that statement was.

* * *

><p>The next day was a rare type of day. It was a day in which Amelia was excited to go to school. She got up early, dragging Matthew out of bed for once, instead of the other way around, intent on catching Berwald before first period started. She had no idea what time he normally got to school, so to make sure she caught him, she planned to get there super early, much to Matthew's chagrin. She dressed quickly, threw her backpack into the back of her and Matthew's shared car, and ushered Matthew into the passenger's seat, insisting on driving because Mattie, "paid too much attention to the speed limits." She barely remembered to grab Berwald's cupcakes before speeding out of the driveway.<p>

Unfortunately, there had been a car wreck right in the middle of the route Amelia and Matthew took to school. It didn't seem to be anything too serious, just a minor accident, for which Amelia was glad, but they were still caught up in that mess for some time, eventually being redirected by one of the police officers to take an alternate route.

"Now that we're in the car, will you please, for the love of maple, tell me why we're going to school this early?" Matthew asked, exasperated, from the passenger's seat.

"Berwald Oxenstierna." Amelia answered simply. "You know him?"

"Yes, he's on the hockey team." Matthew replied. "What about him?"

"Oh, really? I didn't know that! Thanks for the tip, bro!" Amelia missed the confused look her twin shot her as she thanked him for the presumed tip. "Anyway," she continued, "I got partnered with him for Roma's Consumer Finance project. And Papa said it would be a good idea to give him some cupcakes to make friends, you know?"

"So we have to get to school thirty minutes early so you can give your project partner cupcakes?" Matthew question, unable to see his sister's logic.

"Yeah, pretty much!" Amelia replied cheerfully, not seeing any flaws in her thought process.

"Mia," Matthew began slowly. "Why don't you just give them to him at lunch?"

There was a long pause as Amelia contemplated her brother's question. "Crap! I didn't even think about that!" She suddenly exclaimed. "Oh, well. Too late now, huh?"

Matthew groaned and pressed his forehead against the window. If only he had a penny for every time Amelia said 'I didn't think of that.' "So, you actually want to be friends with Oxenstierna?"

"Well, sure," Amelia shrugged. "Why not?"

"You don't think he's a little…"Matthew trailed off searching for the right word. "Terrifying?"

"Psh, Berwald's not terrifying!" Amelia assured. "He's just quiet and shy. Like you, bro!"

Matthew scoffed. "Obviously, you've never seen him on the ice."

"No, I haven't, actually." Amelia replied easily. "Why, does he get all intense, knocking-people-over and shit? I bet that's sexy."

"_What?" _

"Hm? Oh, nothing, haha!"

"Yeah," Matthew said, unconvinced. "You might be right about, though. He seems nice enough, and I've never really been one to put much faith in rumors anyway. But seriously Mia," Mattie said, turning to his sister with a serious look on his face. "Be careful, eh?"

Even as Amelia scoffed at her brother's warning, a soft smile pulled at her lips. She literally had the best brother a girl could ask for. For the most part he was meek and polite. Sometimes painfully shy. Outwardly, he looked as if he would swerve off the road to avoid killing a bug with the windshield. But Amelia realized that Matthew was capable of much more than most gave him credit for. She'd seen it before, exactly what her twin was capable of, many a time in the hockey rink and once with a boy that had fooled around on her and ended up switching schools out of fear and self-preservation after Mattie had gotten ahold of him. He could be pretty intense.

"Dude, chill. You know I can take anyone's ass if I have to."

Matthew rolled his eyes softly, but didn't argue. He knew she was telling the truth.

The rest of the car ride was filled with Amelia's mindless chatter and Matthew's occasional demands to "slow the fuck down!" Despite their early departure and Amelia's disregard for the speed limit, the earlier accident had put them way behind schedule, and the two ended up arriving at school just in time for the warning bell. The twins said a quick goodbye to each other before racing off to their respective classes.

"_Guess I'll have to catch up with Berwald at lunch after all_," Amelia mused to herself as she slid into class just as the late bell went off.

She glanced around the room, looking for Berwald. She found him sitting in his usual seat a few desks down from hers. He sat tall and silent, his back ramrod straight. His sole attention was on Roma, a stern, concentrated look on his face as he dutifully took notes on the teacher's lecture. His focus and obvious dedication to the class made him look like a dutiful, well-educated scholar, while his surrounding classmates looked more like illiterates when compared to him.

It made Amelia feel all the more silly for what she was about to do.

Tearing a piece of paper from her notebook, Amelia jotted down a quick note, asking Berwald to sit with her at lunch, before folding the paper and passing it to the person next to her, instructing them to pass it down to Berwald. And so it went, down the line, passing from person to person until it ended up on Berwald's desk. Amelia watched blatantly from her own seat as Berwald unfolded the note. And stared at it. For several minutes. Amelia began to wonder if she had been a little too forward with her invitation. Or maybe he thought she was childish, and couldn't understand why she had written him a note like a sixth grader instead of catching him at the end of class. Just as Amelia began fidgeting in her seat, regretting the whole idea, Berwald looked up and caught her eye.

His only response was a slight nod of his head, but it was enough.

With a smile, Amelia turned back to her notebook and began taking notes.

The next few classes passed just as slowly as they would on any other school day, and soon enough, Amelia found herself scanning the cafeteria in search of Berwald. She found him standing by the doors leading to the courtyard, a tray already in hand.

"Berwald!" She called, bounding up to him. "There you are!"

Berwald turned and gave her a nod in greeting, looking down at her from his staggering height. Amelia wasn't a short girl, but still, the top of her head didn't even reach Berwald's shoulder.

"Wanna eat outside?"

Berwald shrugged, neither accepting nor declining the offer, leaving the decision up to Amelia.

"Sweet! Let's go!" Amelia headed to the doors leading to the court yard, but Berwald beat her to them, pushing open the door and holding it for her.

"Aw," Amelia smiled. "How gentlemanly." She absently thought of how her dad would've approved of the gesture.

The two quickly found an empty table and took their seats. As they were sitting down, Amelia noticed Berwald glancing between herself and his tray before his gaze settled on her questioningly. "What's up?" She wondered.

"Y' goin' t'eat?" He asked bluntly.

"Well, sure I'm gonna eat!" Amelia said, laughing. "I never skip a meal, haha! I only buy school lunches when they serve pizza or burgers. I've got my lunch in my book bag today." As she said this, she grabbed her lunchbox from her backpack and began unpacking her lunch.

Berwald nodded, satisfied, and turned to his own food.

"So," Amelia began, "I was wondering why you never got around to texting me about the project."

Berwald shifted slightly in his seat. Before he could begin to formulate a response, Amelia trudged on.

"I mean, at first I thought you were probably busy. Which I totally get, by the way, 'cause I'm a pretty busy girl myself. But then the whole weekend went by, and I started to think maybe you were too shy-you seem like a pretty shy guy, you know-but then I started to think maybe you didn't like me, so I-"

"I d' l'ke ya'!" Berwald's exclamation cut her off mid-spiel.

"Huh?" Amelia started, surprised.

Berwald cleared his throat and swallowed thickly before answering, staring at a point beyond Amelia's shoulder to avoid looking at her directly. "I l'ke ya'." He repeated. "Jus' l'st yer numb'r. F'll out m' p'cket."

Amelia, relieved, let out a laugh. "Well, why didn't you just say so in the first place?"

Berwald shrugged, looking down at his food. He didn't offer her a verbal answer.

Rolling her eyes with a soft smile, Amelia began digging through her book bag and instructed Berwald to give her his hand. The boy hesitated, brows furrowing slightly in confusion, but he offered no more resistance and did as she told him. Amelia took the other's hand, absently noting that it was warm and rough. Masculine. Like he worked with his hands. With the sharpie she dug out of her bag, Amelia began writing out her number on Berwald's palm, gently blowing on it to make sure it was dry when she finished.

"There," She said with a satisfied smile. "Now you won't lose it!"

Berwald made a strange noise in the back of his throat and clinched his fist. "_J-ja_" He cleared his throat awkwardly. He suddenly picked up his fork and began stabbing into his food forcefully, not looking up once from his tray as he began to eat.

Amelia, not minding his behavior (because hey, she could appreciate the need to dig into some food like that,) fished Berwald's cupcakes out of her backpack. She eagerly shoved the container towards him. Berwald looked at her questionably from where he was hunched over his tray.

"I made you some cupcakes," She beamed. "As a show of friendship."

Berwald opened the container and picked out one of three perfectly iced and decorated cupcakes that looked too immaculate to be homemade. He raised a brow. "Y' said y'_made _th'se?"

"Sure did! Me and my papa!" Amelia bragged. "My papa owns a cupcakery-Let Them Eat Cake, you've probably heard of it-and these are his most popular. We call it the Three Way Chocolate Orgasm. It's a dark chocolate cake with white chocolate ganache filling and milk chocolate buttercream frosting. I thought you'd like them 'cause everybody likes chocolate, am I right?"

Berwald answered with a 'Hm,' which Amelia interpreted as an affirmation, and handed the girl one of the cupcakes.

"Aw, you're gonna share? Thanks!"

With that, Berwald began to put the lid back on the container, but stopped at the look Amelia sent him.

"Aren't you gonna try one?"

Berwald shifted in his seat, looking slightly uncomfortable and not meeting Amelia's gaze. He cleared his throat before mumbling, "'S t' pr'tty t'eat."

"Don't worry about that!" Amelia exclaimed. "They were made to be eaten. Don't deny them their purpose."

Berwald still seemed reluctant (Amelia wondered if maybe the cupcake's name was the cause of his hesitancy to eat them) but eventually took a small bite of the cupcake.

Amelia began to ask what Berwald thought of the cupcake, but was cut off when he suddenly stood, nearly overturning the table. He snatched up his book bag with a mumbled "S'rry" before darting off, not even bothering to throw his tray away.

A baffled Amelia was left wondering if it had been something she'd said.

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you a million and one times to those that read, reviewed, liked, or subscribed to this story. I was not expecting for it to get any attention, but I was pleasantly surprised. I'm glad you all seem to like it! Now I'm worried about not being able to deliver. I hope this chapter didn't disappoint.

Also, I have come to the conclusion that I have no idea what I'm doing. I hope I can pull this off in the end.

-A cupcakery is a colloquialism for a cupcake bakery.

-The name of Francis' cupcakery is a play off of Marie Antoinette's infamous quote.

-I was going for humor with the name of the cupcake. Don't know if it worked or if it was just weird. Sorry if that was the ase.

Thanks for reading! Review if you feel like it.


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